Namikaze Minato Wants to Leave Work on Time [10]

Drip… drip…

In the dim cavern, water fell now and then, the echoes trailing off into the dark.

Root’s base was a ruin—gouged walls, scorched floors, and the sticky reek of blood everywhere.

Even Orochimaru couldn’t wipe out Root without spilling plenty of it.

Namikaze Minato followed him into a chamber lined with towering glass cylinders—the kind an Ultraman alien might use to turn heroes into statues.

Each cylinder brimmed with green liquid. Root operatives, stripped of masks and uniforms, floated inside.

There were even women among them; Minato’s gaze lingered a beat.

He hadn’t expected it—Orochimaru had turned every Root shinobi into an experimental subject.

So your nindō is “say it, do it,” too, huh?

“These shinobi were mostly from the old clans,” Orochimaru said suddenly, voice a cold rasp. “Danzō, leaning on sensei’s support, basically grabbed them by force and shoved them into Root.”

“I know,” Minato said. It matched what he’d heard from the clans.

“They’ve been brainwashed into absolute loyalty to Danzō—tools who carry out any order without hesitation,” Orochimaru went on, a thin amusement in his tone. “Including handing over their clans’ secret techniques to the village.”

“Oh?” Minato’s interest stirred.

“My sensei and Danzō’s relationship wasn’t simple. Back when my teacher was Hokage, there were plenty he couldn’t do himself. Danzō played the villain. He delivered the clans’ secret arts to sensei, and sensei mastered them without the clans ever realizing.”

“It’s said the Third can use over a thousand jutsu. You’re saying that includes hereditary secret arts as well?”

“Minato-kun, you’re not wrong.”

Minato stopped. “If you brought me here just to swap Hokage conspiracy theories, I’m not staying.”

He had no interest in “Hokage dark theories.”

Maybe Kishimoto had meant the Third to be a good man at first, but the long sprawl of the manga, the contradictions, and ever-darkening retcons had pushed him to lean into a gentler face with a shadowed core.

Early in Shippuden, Danzō took the blame. Later, the two were complicit. Then came flashbacks of the retired Third still running covert ANBU, sometimes even sitting in the Hokage’s chair.

Even Kishimoto seemed to give up “washing” the Third and just embraced the darker side.

But whether Sarutobi Hiruzen was good or bad meant nothing to Minato. Hiruzen, Danzō—neither would stir up trouble under his watch.

Orochimaru’s “theories” didn’t even qualify as after-dinner gossip.

“Don’t be impatient, Minato-kun.” Orochimaru tilted his head, gesturing deeper into the base. “What I really wanted to show you is ahead.”

“…Then I’ll indulge you a little longer.”

The next room was an operating theater. An old man lay on the table, body split open—dead beyond any doubt. If Sarutobi Hiruzen saw Shimura Danzō’s end like this, Minato wondered if the old man would wake sobbing at night.

“You killed Danzō. Aren’t you afraid the Third will be furious?” Minato asked.

“Heh… I know my sensei’s temper very well. He’d never strike to kill me,” Orochimaru said with a wicked smile.

His teacher might not be a good man, but he protected his own.

That Danzō had survived until yesterday was proof enough.

In the original story, even when Orochimaru experimented on villagers, Sarutobi Hiruzen never aimed to kill.

The so-called “Professor” was a sentimental man.

“What’s so interesting here?” Minato glanced at Danzō once and looked away.

Too pitiful—his insides had been scooped clean.

“This,” Orochimaru said, lifting a glass cylinder filled with green fluid. Inside floated a gray-white eyeball.

“A new kekkei genkai—Gray Eye?”

“Of course not. This is Danzō’s Sharingan.”

“How do you know?”

“After transferring Danzō here last night, I killed him immediately. I thought that was that. But thirty seconds later, Danzō reappeared elsewhere in the room, and I killed him again.”

“Not much of a fighter, then.”

“Hehe. To me, among those old men, only sensei qualifies as strong. More importantly, it was the jutsu Danzō used at death. It should be the legendary Izanagi.” Orochimaru set the jar aside as if it were nothing and continued. “Izanagi is an Uchiha forbidden technique. For a set time, you nullify all unfavorable outcomes to yourself—rewrite them as if they never happened—and leave only the beneficial results to become reality. The price is a Sharingan going blind. One eye for one life—not a bad trade, yes?”

“If you plan on targeting Uchiha, there’s no rush. You’ll have your chance.”

“So even the Hokage can’t resist the lure of extra lives, hm? I thought Minato-kun would object more.” Orochimaru’s serpent tongue flicked out to lick his pale cheek, golden eyes studying the Fourth beside him.

He knew Minato differed from his teacher in many ways, but he hadn’t yet found the line.

Bringing Minato here today was exactly to test it.

Judging by Minato’s recent shows of force, his strength far exceeded Orochimaru’s estimates.

He was confident he could survive under Sarutobi Hiruzen. Under Minato? Less certain.

At least the great Fourth still wanted more lives.

That gave Orochimaru room to move.

He might not be the strongest fighter, but he was the strongest researcher.

Even a forbidden Uchiha art like Izanagi—given time, he was sure he could make it his own.

If even Danzō could use it, why couldn’t he?

“You misunderstand me,” Minato said. “I haven’t given you permission to randomly target Uchiha.”

“Then Minato-kun means…”

“Your targets can only be Uchiha who’ve betrayed the village.”

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This is a fan translation of 波风水门想要按时下班 by 破空蛇龙 rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!